Find Me at Rock Bottom
by Meg Ishiro
Summary: It's been seven lonely years since Cho and Harry last shared a glance. So what more do they have to say for each other? Hmm... maybe they'll find out at Nocturne Alley...


_A/N: This is my first Harry Potter fic and I'm kind of proud of how this chapter came out. Hope you'll like it, or at least read it. And review, depending on how nice of a person you are._

_Disclaimer: Everything is J.K. Rowling's except for the actual story _

"Let's take it from the top, girls!" The lights dimmed and a stampede of stilettos and platforms could be heard backstage as the models frantically scurried for their outfits.

"Hey," Vladislava Slovaka cried out furiously as she pushed through the dressing room. Her eyes were bulging and her wand was out and ready. "_IЯ сказал, что вы коснулись моим ботинкам_!" Cho straightened immediately and dropped Vladislava's Burberry heels.

"Sorry," she sputtered out bashfully. "They were just so… beautiful… I couldn't resist." The Russian girl's nostrils flared out haughtily.

"Hah! Beautiful? You not _beautiful_! I beautiful! Is why I rich! In money!" Cho thought of correcting the misunderstanding, then thought otherwise. She was next anyway. Throwing on the cardigan that was laid out on her chair, she ran to the start of the runway and took a deep breath.

She began her strut, powerful and fierce as a horse. Down the runway she went and she could feel her chest thump with conviction. This was her night to prove herself. She would not let any of the others take it away. _Thump, thump, thump._ It was Cho's breath of fresh air right inside that stuffy building that smelled of sweat and desperation. Suddenly she felt strong again; strong like she had been waiting all her life just to show what she was made of.

"Ooh, vork it girrl!" She heard a girl backstage giggle but set her face in stone and proceeded to the end of the walk. Pausing, hands on her hips, she spun around in one fluid motion and proceeded to strut the other way to the beginning of the runway.

Another girl approached her, strutting in the opposite direction. Cho kept up her walk and finally reached the end. She sprinted backstage to throw on a different outfit for her second walk. The lights went on again, though, and the music stopped.

"Cho? Ms. Chang, I'm calling you!" Cho dropped the trousers she was putting on and ran down the steps of the stage towards the audience.

"I'm-" she huffed, "So sorry. I couldn't quite hear you backstage." The short man in front of her, clad in a bright striped suit and a newsboy hat, nodded understandingly.

"It's all right, dear, it can get a little noisy in here. I wanted to talk to you about your run." Cho smiled as she redid her jacket buttons. She knew it was the best she'd ever done, maybe good enough for a slot in Mr. Vabbana's exclusive fashion show next month saved for his favorite models.

"Well," he started hesitantly in his prominent Italian accent, "It was quite good. You know we hired you about a year ago despite your young age because we saw great potential. I had a promising line of models at our first fashion show, perfect for my breakout in the wizarding world. The only problem was… eh… your race." Cho's square jaw dropped in disbelief.

"What I mean is… you know my line of clothing is primarily European. No? When Volce and I first started out, why, we were just two little boys in Milan with one crazy dream! But you see that dream became the Italian dream, which is why our models are often European. It keeps up our reputation; you follow?" Cho nodded coldly. "Anyway," he continued, "I was willing to give you a try. Your walk was very cutting edge, perfect for our fall line. You delivered, darling, you delivered! That autumn, those buckle boots you wore in one of your runs were sold out before they hit the boutiques. That was the kind of marketing power you carried in your walk, and we knew you had to stay."

"However," Cho grimaced at that word, "Your charm slowly wore off. You cannot deny it, Ms. Chang; by spring you were a one hit wonder. The fashion gurus in the audience tired of your walk, your edge, and your face. They wanted the Russians." Vabbana hung his head. Cho thought it all seemed a little like the Olympics when he put it that way. "Volce wanted to let you go, but I liked you. I never forgot the buckle boots, you see. It wasn't until a few months ago that I started to doubt."

"At the rehearsals, I started to notice you getting a little stouter. I know that it may not be fair to judge a model on their weight but this is the fashion industry after all. We always need to be the freshest, the youngest! All the other designers are picking up on the hint and hiring the skinniest European models in the world. Did you see Valph Vauren's lineup last week? Then you know what I am talking about! They are skinny like a twig, every single one of them. We need to keep up, you know."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Chang, that it has to end like this. You were a great saleswoman and I will never forget how you sold my buckle boots like crazy. Who knows? We might meet again someday. Hey, perhaps you can join up with Burberry! They like their models stockier and I hear you have a fondness for their shoes. Good luck, Cho." She felt the words stab at her insides and tears came down slowly, making her mascara run.

He did not let her go. This had to be a joke. She was assured that it was not as the man who had once been like a father figure to her turned and walked slowly away, closing the door on her last chance. "Come on, ladies; let's pick up where we left off…" Cho walked up to the dressing room for the last time and grabbed her clothes. She felt eighteen pairs of European eyes bore her down, some piteously but others smugly. Finally, something inside of her snapped and she realized what she had to do.

"Mr. Vabbana! Mr. Vabbana, please!" He turned around in his seat to face her, surprised that she hadn't left yet. "If I get my youth back by tomorrow afternoon, will you have me back?" He tried to stifle a laugh knowing that he had just cost this woman a job.

"Please, Ms. Chang, don't try to make this painful for me. I told you before; we simply can't afford to have you in our lineup. I'm sorry that you don't have anything to fall back upon but business is business." Cho stared at him determinedly.

"Tomorrow afternoon, sir, I promise! That is, if you will have me back." Vabbana sighed heavily but nodded.

"All right, darling, whatever you say. Please leave now so that we can continue our rehearsal." Cho forced a smile and headed hesitantly for the door that led her out of the building.

She breathed in the cool April air but her heart was heavy. Placing her hands onto her increasingly protruding belly, she closed her eyes and let the tears roll again as she felt a tiny kick.

"Goodbye, little one."


End file.
